Family Ties
by MysteriousSnape
Summary: Dumbledore discovers that even though Harry's family protection will expire on his 17th birthday there may be a way to achieve a similar level of safety into adulthood. The story begins at the start of year 6. Everything is cannon up until the end of book 5, except that Harry remembered the communication mirror in time and was able to contact Sirius before going to the ministry.
1. Chapter 1: Visions and Blown Cover

A tall, slim man in a dark, billowing cloak glided slowly down a dimly lit hallway, unmarked doors lining both walls. A heavy stillness and absolute silence filled the space. Not even the man's footsteps on the hard stone floor could be heard. He paused briefly before each door before continuing on. There was no sense of a hurry about the man, just a cold calculated determination. After giving more than a dozen identical doors the same treatment, he seemed to find what he was looking for. The man reached a hand forward to grasp the door knob and quickly jerked it back as a shock jolted through his arm.

Harry awoke with a start, a searing pain radiated out from the scar on his forehead and surged through his body, burning his limbs and pricking the tips of his fingers and toes. His body convulsed once, and then lay still. The shock had lasted only the very briefest instant, but he was left gasping and unable to move as his muscles tried to relax. His scar throbbed dully, and he turned over to reach for the lamp. Moving was a bad idea. The instant he turned his head the dull throb in Harry's scar turned to a sharp pain. Gritting his teeth, Harry forced himself into a seated position and turned on the light.

One hand pressed firmly against his scar, the other against his mouth to muffle his groan of pain, Harry stumbled over to the small desk in the corner of his bedroom. He had to write down this dream before he forgot any of the details. Pulling out a sheet of parchment and setting his quill halfway down the page, he began to write. As he copied the memory down the sharp pain in his scar began to fade. By the time he'd finished with the dream and had returned to the top of the sheet he felt as though he just had a bad migraine.

He added a quick greeting to Sirius and a brief update on how he'd passed the time since his last letter nearly two weeks ago. Though the Dursleys had been treating him marginally better this summer, mostly by ignoring him and leaving him to his own devices, his uncle still turned purple every time he saw an owl. Not wanting to enrage him further and give him reason to reinstate the prison state of previous summers Harry had kept his correspondence to a minimum. Of the four letters he'd sent this summer three of them had been to tell Sirius about these dreams. He wasn't really sure why. There wasn't anything particularly scary about them, but they felt incredibly real and left him paralyzed with pain upon awaking. Harry had come very close to disaster last year when Voldemort realized that he could use the connection to his own advantage, and he couldn't tell whether the dreams were real, planted by Voldemort, or some twisted creation of his own subconscious. Regardless, Sirius needed to know about them.

Severus dragged himself up the last two stairs, collapsing against the wall as he knocked on the door. It opened before he even had a chance to lower his hand and Severus found himself suddenly on his feet before a very concerned looking wizard.

"What happened? Who did this?" Albus demanded as he led Severus into a chair.

"He made me choose," Severus gasped. "He said I was doing too well-" he let out a small scream as the elderly wizard lifted the bottom of Severus's robe above his knee to reveal the mangled remains of his left leg. He forced more air into his lungs and braced himself against the chair. "Too well at being a spy," he continued through gritted teeth. "He said he needed proof that I wasn't really on this side."

Albus muttered under his breath as a blue light dominated from the tip of his wand. Severus's leg tingled slightly, but the pain didn't ease and it was still oozing blood.

"He tried to break into my mind. I was able to keep him out, but I couldn't conceal how strongly I was resisting his legilimency and he now knows just how much I've been keeping from him. When his legilimency failed he sent a hell hound after me."

Albums frowned. "How long ago was that?"

"About twenty minutes. I made a couple of stops and direction changes along the way in case he sent someone after me. I don't think I was followed." Severus had paled several more shades in the last few minutes.

Albums stood abruptly and took three steps across the room to a door beside his desk. He waved it open to reveal a large and very ornate apothecary chest. He pulled open three of the small drawers and removed several small paper packets. He waved his wand and conjured up a small bowl of water and some bandages. "We may still have time to reduce some of the damage," he said as he set one of the packets aside and emptied the rest into the bowl. He mixed the contents with a flick of his wand. It quickly congealed into a thick paste. Severus leaned forward, sniffing at the bowl but immediately fell back against the chair.

"Sit," Dumbledore ordered. "You can question my methods later. For now you need to be still while I try to save your leg." He scooped up a handful of the paste and began to carefully spread it over the tattered remains of Severus's leg. The damage was severe. Some of the tissue was already completely dead and simply fell off at the first touch. Albus kept going, however, and soon the paste covered everything from shin to knee. He snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared immediately. "Winky, please go fetch Madam Pomfrey."


	2. Chapter 2: Hard Choices

"Absolutely not! Have you finally lost your marbles? How could I do that to Harry?"

"It would be for his benefit Sirius. You know that the protections afforded by his blood kin will end when he turns seventeen. If he does this he would gain a level of protection nearly as strong. It's the surest way to keep him alive."

"What good is keeping him alive if his life will be miserable?"

"You don't know that. I believe he may come to be glad of it. Besides, it would solve two of our problems." Albus was calm but firm.

"I don't trust him," Sirius insisted. "How can you be sure he won't hurt Harry? He's far more vulnerable than he lets on. And with these dreams he's having I don't know how much more of an invasion he can handle."

"That's all the more reason for him to take occlumency lessons."

"But you could teach him that yourself."

"Not as well. You know, as I do, that Severus is quite possibly the best occlumens the world has ever seen. Plus, Harry's getting better at reading me. He's been picking up on things I hadn't even realized I'd let slip. We can't risk that happening until we know for certain whether Voldemort is aware of this connection and whether it goes both ways. Severus would never give up information accidentally."

"Secretive little git."

Albus gave Sirius a long calculating glance. "I take it that you will give this some serious consideration. I will be back in one week to discuss it further." He turned and walked away before Sirius could respond.

Albus knocked on the door to Severus's chamber and then proceeded to let himself in.

"I think I have a way to keep you safe, but it will take some time and you're not going to like it."

Severus looked up from the book he was reading, his expression a mixture of hope, gratitude, and wariness. "I don't suppose I'm in much of a position to be picky. Precisely how distasteful is it?"

"Well, to start with you'll need to tutor Harry Potter in occlumency again. He's still having nightmares involving Voldemort."

Severus's face dropped. Potter. This was all his fault. If he'd never been born the dark lord would never have tried to kill him, and then Lily would still be alive and he would never have had to become a double agent. "You were correct as usual. I don't like it."

A twinkle suddenly appeared in Albus's eye. "That wasn't really the part I was expecting you to object to."


	3. Chapter 3: Birthday Surprises

Harry woke up and smiled as he glanced at the calendar. His birthday. That had never been a source of great pleasure growing up, but this year was different. Sirius should be by soon to pick him up, and Harry would get to stay with him for the rest of the summer! His godfather may be a fugitive, but he still had access to the manor he had inherited.

Harry paced his small room, repeatedly checking under the bed, in the closet, and beneath the loose floor board to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. He had packed his trunk yesterday and there was certainly nothing he could have left out, but he couldn't seem to sit still while he waited.

The hours ticked by painfully slowly, but in the middle of the afternoon Sirius finally arrived. Harry leaped out of his chair and threw himself at his godfather, who had apparated into the room facing the other direction. Sirius let out a belly laugh as he pried Harry's arms from around his waist and turned around to get a proper look at him.

"Miss me?" he asked with obvious glee. "Have the Dursleys been treating you well?"

Harry paused. He didn't want his godfather to worry about him but he also didn't want to lie. "I don't think they've spoken one word to me all summer," he admitted. "I'd have to say it's been the most pleasant time I've ever spent in this house."

Sirius glared at the door but didn't say anything. Harry's trunk and Hedwig's empty cage disappeared with a wave of the man's wand. The owl hadn't returned after delivering Harry's most recent letter to Sirius, concerning his seventh nightmare this summer. "Do you have anything else, Harry?" The boy shook his head. "I don't suppose you need to bother telling them you're leaving, then. Ready to go?" Harry nodded. Sirius gripped Harry's upper arm firmly and with a loud crack they left Harry's bedroom at number four privet drive and appeared in a much larger, much dustier bedroom at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

"I need to talk to you about a couple of things before we head downstairs."

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked, noticed that any mirth had fled from Sirius's face.

"Not exactly. You understand why you need to go home to the Dursleys every summer, right?"

Harry nodded. "There's some sort of old magic that protects me there."

Sirius smiled softly. "That's right. Because your mother died trying to save you, if you are under the care of someone related to her then Voldemort can't hurt you. However, that protection ends when you turn seventeen and become an adult in the wizarding world." Harry nodded again. "Professor Dumbledore thinks he's found a way to gain you a similar level of protection when you turn seventeen, but I can't explain to you what it is."

"Why not?" Harry asked. He knew that adults often kept things from him, but he never thought Sirius would be the one doing it.

Sirius sighed, recognizing the hurt look on Harry's face. "Your dreams indicate that you're still fully linked to Voldemort, and we don't want him to read any of our plans through your mind. Until you can be trained to prevent that kind of mental attack, the less you know about how your protection works the better."

"Okay," Harry said slowly. "How will I get trained then?"

"That's the part you're not going to like," Sirius said. "You need to start up your occlumency lessons again. Once next term starts you will be meeting twice a week with Professor Snape."

"What?" Harry exploded. "Why does it have to be him? It failed last time and it will fail again! Besides, he's just going to turn around and tell Voldemort everything anyway."

"First of all, Professor Snape is highly skilled in occlumency. In fact, he's the only one I'm aware of who has actually resisted Voldemort's attempts at legilimency. Second of all, he's on our side." Sirius held up a hand when Harry opened his mouth to protest. "I know you don't trust him. I didn't either for a long time. His cover has been blown now, and he can't play double agent. I expect you'll see some differences in the way he acts once school starts. I won't listen to any complaints and if I hear you're doing anything but your very best to learn occlumency from him, well, I don't know what I'll do. This whole guardian thing is still new to me. I'll do something, though."

"Fine."

"Now, I have a birthday present for you from Professor Dumbledore." Sirius pulled something silver out of his pocket. "This is part of the protection I mentioned, and I can't tell you much about it. You need to keep it absolutely secret. Don't even tell Ron and Hermione. Hold out your left arm," he instructed. Sirius rolled up the sleeve of Harry's t-shirt until it was all the way up at his shoulder. "Once I put this cuff on your arm, you won't be able to remove it until your seventeenth birthday."

"What does it do?" Harry asked, looking at the silver arm band Sirius was holding out. There was some sort of intricate geometric pattern on it, and along the bottom was a series of letters: VII XXX MCMXCVII.

Sirius smiled again. "I just told you I can't answer that. It shouldn't have any effect on your daily life. It will change size if needed to remain tightly attached to your arm, but other than that you shouldn't notice it doing anything at all." he slid the cuff up Harry's arm as high as it would go, and then muttered a long incantation under his breath. Harry strained to hear what he said, but Sirius spoke too quietly and too quickly. "Well, that's done." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Harry turned to leave the room. "One last thing," Sirius said quickly. "I have one more request to make, and it's completely unlike me, but I need you to take it seriously. You can't listen in when the Order members are meeting. Until you learn occlumency well enough to know that Voldemort isn't going to find out our plans by listening in on your mind we can't take any chances by putting them there in the first place."


	4. Chapter 4: Life at Grimmauld Place

"Harry, you're here!" Harry stumbled back across the hall as Hermione flung herself at him. Ron grinned from the doorway before stepping forward and pulling Hermione off of Harry.

"Let him breathe! Hey, mate," he said, punching Harry on the arm. "Come on in, we have birthday presents for you." Ron walked back into the room, leaving Harry and Hermione to follow after him. It was the same room they had shared last summer. Ron threw himself into one of the three chairs in front of the empty fire place. Two small beds filled the other side of the room. Hermione motioned to the chair on the end, next to which was a small side table stacked with presents.

Harry grinned and sat down, happy to be with friends again and looking forward to a new school term. The last one had been downright quiet, compared to his previous four years. After Harry returned from the Tri-Wizard Tournament the wizarding world spun into chaotic action preparing for another war against Voldemort. Once they'd finished questioning him about the events in the graveyard, Harry had been left largely alone, which suited him just fine. He found his classes to be much easier when he had the ability to actually concentrate on the lectures and homework. He was really excited to get back to the castle and return to the epic prank war they'd been waging against the Slytherins. It had been fairly evenly matched at the end of last term, but the few owls that had made it through to him over the last two months indicated that the Gryffindor boys were ready to step things up a couple notches. All in all, it really seemed like things were falling into place for Harry.

He filled his friends in on his summer, and told them about the dreams he'd been having. Harry also added what Sirius told him about the dreams connecting him to Voldemort and his upcoming occlumency lessons with Snape. He carefully avoided mention of the silver band on his arm, though it felt strange to keep secrets.

"I'm really glad you're back, Harry," Hermione said again. "It will really make the DA preparations go so much more smoothly.

"Are we doing that again this year, then?"

"Yeah," Ron answered. "Dumbledore swears we have a good Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year, but we don't want to take any chances. Besides, somehow we always end up fighting against dark wizards any way, this way we can be more prepared. Hermione's been working on putting together a syllabus and I've been practicing some of the spells with my brothers when they're around, but it will go so much faster with you here."

"So that's how you're spending your summer vacation?" Harry asked with a grin. "More school work? I guess Hermione's really rubbing off on you, huh?" Ron blushed and mumbled something incoherently.

"Well, we'd also been listening in on the Order meetings using Fred and George's extendable ears, but I guess we can't fill you in on what we learned there," Hermione said regretfully.

"No, better not," Harry responded. "And clearly I can't listen in with you, either."

"Oh, Harry, we won't listen in any more now that we know you're still linked to Voldemort. It would be terrible if we let something slip accidentally." Harry was looking rather uncomfortable, so Hermione changed the subject. "You should open your birthday presents before dinner!"

Harry looked over at the small stack, and smiled at his friends' thoughtfulness. Clearly the neatly wrapped, conspicuously book-shaped parcels came from Hermione. He opened those first to reveal books on the history of quidditch, obscure counter-curses, and wizarding duel theory. "Thanks, Hermione; you always know just what I would never think to buy for myself!" She grinned and gave him a quick hug. Turning to the remaining packages and wondering what could possibly make them so lumpy, Harry opened them to reveal a variety of products of Fred and George's creation as well as seemingly half the contents of Honeyduke's. "Thanks, Ron; you always know just what I didn't know I always wanted!" Ron blushed and punched Harry on the arm.

"The twins cut me a deal, since I was buying them for you," he answered sheepishly.

With that, Harry settled into his room at Order Headquarters and a nice routine of eating, sleeping, and trying to repel every curse that Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie could think to throw at him.


	5. Chapter 5: Nightmares and Hogwarts

A/N: Sorry for the long delay between chapters. I was all set to post several chapters last week, and then I realized I left something out. With the holiday and related traveling I didn't have a chance to get it fixed until now.

* * *

A half dozen people clustered around a large wooden table spread with papers. In the center of it all was a large map of the United Kingdom. The hooded figure standing in the doorway stepped forward. "Find it," his high, sharp voice commanded. "Find it, and destroy it."

"Yes, sir. We are almost there, sir," a wild-eyed woman with a mane of dark frizzy hair responded eagerly. "It is definitely in Surrey. This is where you sent the last attack," she said, pointing at a black mark on the map.

"Yes, and we know that a squib lives very near to that spot. We just need to find her and she will lead us to it." The blond man spoke confidently and without emotion.

The man in the cloak felt a rush of excitement. _Close… so close_. A gleeful cackle shot out of his mouth.

* * *

Harry bolted to his trunk and dug around by wand light until he found a bottle of ink, a quill, and a spare sheet of parchment. He heard Ron shift in his bed, but ignored the sound. Setting his things on the small table that had housed his birthday gifts when he'd first arrived, Harry kneeled on the floor and began to write down his dream.

After giving his parchment a quick once over to be sure he hadn't left anything out, he opened the bedroom door. "Where're you goin', Harry?" Ron asked groggily.

"Nowhere, I just need to talk to Sirius. Go back to sleep." Ron looked confused, but let his head drop back onto the pillow.

Harry walked down the hall and down a flight of stairs, stopping in front of Sirius's door. He paused, suddenly uncertain. If he was still at the Dursleys' he wouldn't have hesitated to send an owl this early in the morning, but barging in and waking Sirius up himself was different somehow. _No, Sirius if your godfather. If you can't wake him up in the middle of the night to deal with a problem with an evil overlord, who can you wake?_ He steeled himself and knocked lightly on the door. When there was no answer he turned the knob and cracked the door open. Harry peered inside to see Sirius fast asleep. He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside. "Sirius?" he called softly. His godfather shifted. "Sirius, I need to talk to you." He woke, blinking into the dark room.

"Harry, is that you?"

"Yeah. I, um, had another dream."

Sirius sat straight up. "What was it about?"

"Voldemort was trying to find something again. This time there were other people there. I think it was Mr. Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. They were looking at a map, and there was a mark in Surrey… something about an attack nearby last year. They told him they were close to finding it," Harry said. He handed the parchment to Sirius. "The details are getting fuzzy, but I wrote it all down as soon as I woke up."

Sirius quickly scanned the parchment. "I'll pass this on to Dumbledore. He may know what Voldemort is looking for." He glanced at his watch. "Do you think you'll be able to go back to sleep?"

Harry shook his head. "I never do. My head hurts too much." His godfather looked at him sharply. "It's not my scar, I promise. My scar always hurts really bad right as I wake up, and it sends shocks through my whole body. That passes really quickly though and I just have a headache for the rest of the day."

"Maybe Molly has a potion that will help with that," Sirius said with a yawn. He got up out of bed and put a robe on over his pajamas. "We might as well go make breakfast. You'll have to spend the entire morning getting your trunk packed to go back to school today." He paused at the door and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Thank you for waking me up to tell me this. You did the right thing."

* * *

Before he knew it, Harry was sitting down in the Great Hall for the start of term feast. He sat impatiently through the sorting of first years giving many longing glances at the empty platters and dishes on the table in front of him. Mrs. Weasley had done her best to keep Harry's stomach full once he got to Grimmauld place, but even she was no match for the Hogwarts house elves. The sorting went on uneventfully. He didn't know any of the new students, and it didn't seem as though any of the other Gryffindor sixth years had any younger siblings or cousins among the group, so it was hard to be too invested. The sorting hat would make sure that each house got an equal number, and they would fit in with their housemates well enough.

As the last timid girl scuttled off to the Ravenclaw table to thunderous applause, everyone turned eagerly toward the table to eat. "Good evening, everyone." Dumbledore was standing and smiling calmly at the front of the room. "I know you all are hungry, but there is one more task to complete before our feast can begin. You may have noticed that some of your classmates are missing." Harry glanced around, and while all of the boys in his year were accounted for, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were missing. There were a few empty seats among the younger students as well. "Many of you received owls over the summer inviting you to participate in an exchange program with an American wizarding school. After discussions with those students who were interested, we sent a total of twenty-five Hogwarts students to New Amsterdam Academy, and I am very pleased to welcome our new American students. They arrived a bit early and have already been sorted into houses for the term. Ah, here they are!"

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and four lines of students walked in. Most looked ready to burst with excitement, though a few – mostly the younger ones – looked to be incredibly nervous. Each line walked straight to a different house table. The Gryffindor group contained six people, including two girls who sat down next to Hermione.

"Please show your new housemates around, and assist them in getting adjusted to the castle and the classes. It is quite a bit different than what they are used to. And with that," Dumbledore continued, "I will leave you to your feast." The platters suddenly teemed with food, the pitchers filled with pumpkin juice, and the Great Hall exploded in a rush of conversation.

"Hi, I'm Hermione, and this is Ron," she gestured at the red head, "and Harry." Hermione stuck her hand out at the first girl, a pretty blonde.

"Hi, I'm Jessica," the girl replied.

"I'm Sally," the other girl responded, shaking Hermione's hand and then Ron's and Harry's. She had short dark hair and thin glasses. "Are you Harry Potter?" Harry nodded. "Wow, we learned about you in our European history class. It's really cool to meet you."

Harry blushed. "Oh, um, yeah. So what year are you in?"

"We were told we're both in sixth year. Does that seem right? I think you count grade levels differently here. At New Amsterdam we're in the eleventh grade." Jessica looked really concerned, and kept glancing down toward the first and second years as she spoke.

"We only go up to seventh year here, so we must count differently," Ron answered. "We're in sixth year, so it sounds like we'll have classes together." He beamed, eyes darting back and forth between both girls. He added several pieces of roast beef to his already overflowing plate, and settled in to eat.

The rest of the feast passed by in the blink of an eye, as the Hogwarts trio explained life at Hogwarts and the American students offered some insight on how things were different at their school. Before they realized it, the desserts were being cleared away and Dumbledore was standing up in front of the Great Hall again for the rest of his announcements.

"I'm sure you have noticed a new face at the staff table once again this year," he said, eyes twinkling. "I would like everyone to give a warm welcome to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Patrick Smyth." The man who stood up looked to be the oldest member of the staff aside from Dumbledore. He looked intently around the room, nodded once, and then sat back down.


	6. Chapter 6: The First Occlumency Lesson

The first week of Harry's sixth year was absolutely jam packed. They were putting off starting DA meetings until next week, but quidditch tryouts were coming up over the weekend and he hadn't been on his broom in three months. It wouldn't do for the team captain to be completely out of shape, so he spent an hour after class every afternoon running through some basic drills and getting his muscles reacquainted with the sport.

The first class with the new Defense professor had been interesting. He had been teaching at a school in Italy for the past ten years, but had moved back to England to be closer to his sister who had been injured in the line of duty as an Auror. He had the same gift that McGonagall and Snape had for holding a class's attention, and seemed very concerned about the defense education they had had so far. He had told them to put away their year 6 books altogether and assigned them reading from their third through fifth year textbooks with the promise of a quiz at the next class.

And so it was that by the time Harry was walking to his occlumency lesson on Thursday evening he had already written nearly three feet of essays, met Hagrid's latest experiment, and narrowly avoided getting caught by Filch after escaping from a victorious duel against Goyle. The only class that hadn't met yet was Potions, so it was with great trepidation that Harry knocked on the door to Snape's office.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Snape said coldly, gesturing impatiently for him to enter. Harry sat down as the professor closed the door. "Hello, Harry. Did you have a nice summer?"

Harry gaped. Sirius had warned him that Snape would act differently, but he didn't expect such a drastic difference. Was he actually smiling a little, or was his face just tense? "It was okay, I guess," Harry answered. "Once Sirius picked up from the Dursleys' any way."

Snape nodded. "Our first occlumency lesson will be brief. I think you will agree with me that last year's lessons were not exactly productive, and as such I would like to begin fresh. Occlumency is not an easy skill to develop, nor a quick one. It takes patience, determination, and concentration. I will administer a test to see what we are starting with, and then I'll give you some exercises to work on before bed each night." He opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out something that appeared to be a candle, except that when Harry looked closer he saw that there wasn't a wick. "The first step in learning occlumency is being able to keep the surface of your mind clear of thoughts." Setting the candle in the middle of his desk, Snape continued, "This is a tool to help you focus your mind. I will demonstrate for you first." The man closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, looking only at the candle. "_Exardesco_," he whispered, and tiny flame appeared on top of the wax cylinder as if it really were a lit candle. The flame stayed absolutely still.

"It takes much practice to keep the flame lit for more than a few seconds," Snape said quietly, no trace of emotion in his voice. "It takes much skill and determination to maintain a conversation at the same time. If you're one of the best in the world, you may even eventually be able to look away from the flame," he said, slowly and deliberately raising his gaze to meet Harry. "However, for now you will concentrate only on keeping the flame steady." With a quick shake of his head the flame went out. "Your turn."

Harry looked at the candle and uttered the incantation. A flame appeared, jumped and flickered wildly for a second or two, and then disappeared in a puff of smoke. Snape sighed and looked cross. "I suppose it would have been too much to ask for you to last even five seconds on your first attempt. The average occlumency student lasts ten or twenty seconds at least. Teaching a teenaged boy to clear his thoughts has got to be one of the most futile tasks in existence." Harry shrank in his chair. Seeming to notice Harry's reaction, the professor gritted his teeth and leveled his voice. "You must clear all thoughts from your mind before you begin. Take a couple of slow deep breaths. Some students find it helps to think about a low buzzing noise, as this helps to drown out some of the background thoughts. Be aware, however, that this will guarantee that the flame flickers and you will never be able to hold it completely steady until you are able to silence your mind completely."

Harry nodded slowly. At a gesture from Snape, he closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. He focused on breathing slowly in and out, and then thought about a quiet buzzing noise, raising the volume until it just concealed the sound of his breathing. He slowly opened his eyes and repeated the spell. The flame came back, and while it swayed uncertainly back and forth, it remained it stayed in place. Harry felt a jolt of excitement, and saw the flame immediately jump. Forcing the emotion out of his head, the flame resettled itself in place. Harry noticed the buzzing starting to recede, and immediately tried to bring it back. As his concentration shifted to such a deliberate thought, the flame went out once more.

"Eighteen seconds," Snape intoned. "It seems you can take some instruction. Take the candle with you. You are to practice for thirty minutes a day, and I expect to see great improvement before your next lesson. You may do the exercise at any time of day, but I would suggest trying to practice before you go to sleep. Clearing your mind may help you to keep the dreams at bay, which is what we're ultimately trying to achieve."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

"Do you have any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Then you may go, and we will meet after dinner on Sunday. Do not be late."

* * *

Severus waited several minutes until he was sure Harry was halfway to his common room before locking his office and passing through the concealed door into his personal quarters, slamming it behind him. It just wasn't fair. He couldn't stand the boy. After everything Harry had been through, and everything he knew he would need to do in the future, he still didn't fully apply himself to learning what he'd need to know. That first attempt had been pitiful. The second had been marginally better, but still nothing worthy of praise. Severus had required all of his self-control just to stop himself from sending Harry out of his office right then, with clear instructions never to return.

The only thing that stopped him was a memory of Lily. Severus had sacrificed everything for her; he lost his family, his friends, any hope of meeting a nice pureblood witch and settling down. He'd almost lost his life many times over the course of his double agency. He would never forgive himself for getting her killed, and he refused to allow her sacrifice to be in vain. He _would_ protect Harry, he _would_ teach him what he needed to defeat the dark lord, and he _would_ find a way to do so without killing the kid himself.

* * *

Harry walked into the common room and plopped down on a chair next to Ron and Hermione. "Harry, you're back!" Hermione exclaimed. "How did it go? I thought you weren't going to be done for another half hour."

"Yeah, how bad was it?" Ron added.

"It was… really weird," Harry responded. "When I first went in, Snape was practically nice to me. He said we would start over from the beginning and do some concentration exercises, and then I must have done really badly because he got really mad and sent me out telling me to practice a lot."

"Slimy git," Ron muttered.

"I'm sure he's having a tough first week of classes," Hermione said slowly.

"Why would _he_ be having a tough time?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"Well, we don't know exactly what happened between him and Voldemort, but we do know he was compromised and is now unequivocally on our side. I'm sure many of the Slytherins have an idea of what happened from their parents, and it can't be easy for Professor Snape. He has to maintain some semblance of authority and order in his house when from the perspective of many of his students he's a liar and a sneak and not to be trusted. In any case, double potions with Slytherin tomorrow will probably be worse than normal."

"What's wrong with potions?" Jessica asked, walking up to the very tail end of the conversation. "It's my favorite subject!"

"Well, you haven't met Snape, yet. He's a right git!"

"Ronald!" Hermione scolded. Turning to Jessica, she clarified, "Professor Snape is a very tough teacher. He's also head of Slytherin, and he tends to favor them much more than the other heads of houses favor their students. Since we usually have potions with them, he favors them by being particularly critical with us and docking house points for every little thing. It's not a problem unless you let them bait you, but Ron and Harry are completely incapable of ignoring Draco Malfoy so potions tends to be pretty miserable for all of us."

"I can't imagine Harry being incapable of anything," Sally gushed. Her face was pointed at her shoes, but she glanced shyly at Harry over the tops of her glasses.

"Um, right," Harry said, looking thoroughly annoyed. "I need to head upstairs and get working on my 'homework.'" He patted the pocket of his robes that had the candle in it. "See you at breakfast Hermione, Ron. Good night Sally and Jessica."

"Did I say something wrong?" Sally asked as Harry disappeared from sight.

"Harry doesn't like getting special treatment or getting attention for doing something he was too young to remember," Hermione responded. "Just treat him like you would anyone else."

"But he stopped the most powerful dark lord in centuries! He's practically a god!"

"Yeah, keep that up and see how long you last before he hexes you from shear frustration," Ron added.


	7. Chapter 7: Snape in a Snit

There was no missing the feeling of anxiety in the Gryffindor sixth years as they sat down for breakfast. Judging by the reports of the fifth and seventh years, who had already had their first potions classes, Hermione was dead on. Snape had been in a foul mood all week, docking points heavily from all houses. Harry looked up at the large hour glasses at the back of the Great Hall and almost spit out his pumpkin juice. Both Slytherin and Gryffindor had negative house point counts, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were barely positive.

"I don't think I can even eat," Ron said, looking queasily at the platters of bacon and sausage in front of him. Hermione immediately put a hand on his forehead.

"You don't feel feverish," she said, winking at Harry.

"Come on, Ron, you know we'll need our strength to survive until lunch," Harry said. He filled his plate with toast, eggs, and bacon and then filled Ron's plate to match.

"Is it really going to be that bad?" Jessica asked. "I really thought you were just being dramatic last night." She put a half-eaten piece of toast on her plate and wiped her hands on her robe.

"We're about to find out. Come on, we really don't want to be late today." Hermione hustled them up and out of the Great Hall.

As they entered the dungeons they found themselves behind Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. "Ugh, I don't know how I'll make it through potions this year," Malfoy was saying. "I begged my parents to let me drop it after hearing what happened with Professor Traitorus Snape, but my father said I'll need the NEWT to get a good position in the ministry. But really, it's bad enough having to deal with such despicable coward as our head of house, I can't imagine looking him in the eye and taking orders from him for the next two hours. I'm angry enough to hex the blood traitor right now." His lackeys grunted assent.

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione. "Guess you were right," he mouthed to her.

They walked into the classroom with ten minutes to spare and found that the Slytherins had already taken all of the seats at the back of the room. Sally and Hermione sat down at a bench in the second row. "You said you're good at potions, right?" Ron asked Jessica. When she nodded uncertainly he gestured to the other second row bench. Harry glanced back and forth between the two tables. He wasn't sure he could get through a potions class without Hermione, especially with Snape in a snit, but he really didn't want to sit with Sally. One wrong gush from her would have Snape kicking him out of class before he knew what hit him. He slid into the open seat next to Jessica. The rest of the seats filled quickly after that, with Neville, Seamus, and Dean getting stuck in the front row directly in front of Snape's desk. Neville was shaking visibly.

The door slammed shut and Snape barged to the front of the room, robes billowing behind him. He slammed his textbook on the desk and whirled around to face the class. A short jab of his wand at the board revealed the day's assignment: a blood replenishing potion taken from one of the last chapters of the textbook.

"I trust you have all read your textbook by now. This potion shows up often on the NEWT exams. It is extremely volatile until the final step has been completed. One wrong rotation of your stirrer or the tiniest error in your measurement of an ingredient and it _will_ blow up in your face. You have one hour." He looked at the class, eyeing the petulant Slytherins in the back. "Well? Why haven't you started yet?"

"Are we supposed to have already read the entire textbook?" Jessica whispered to Harry.

"No, but this is what we were talking about earlier." He tried to mask his part of the conversation by staring intently at his book while trying to find the page with the potion's instructions. Snape, however, wasn't fooled.

"Potter! Twenty points from Gryffindor. And you! What's your name?"

"Jessica Bradley," she said, her voice cracking.

Snape looked her up and down. "Yes, I should have guessed from the state of your robes. I don't know how things work at your old school, but in my class you are not to distract your classmates with idle chitchat."

"Yes, sir," she squeaked.

Harry was already halfway to the ingredient cabinet. A few minutes later he was back at the work bench. He very carefully weighed out each ingredient before returning the extra. He glanced over at Ron and Jessica. Ron's ingredients were in messy piles which were already beginning to merge together. Jessica's were neatly separated, but she wasn't measuring them on a scale. She was using a spell to pull out the amount she needed. Before Harry could even ask her what she was doing Snape was looming over their table.

"Miss Bradley! Why is your wand out in my classroom?"

"I'm measuring my potions ingredients, sir." She seemed utterly confused by his question.

"And why are you not using a scale like everyone else in the room? Do you think that sitting with the Chosen One grants you special privileges?"

"No, sir. This is how I'm used to measuring my ingredients. I didn't realize that we were required to use the scale."

"Mr. Weasley, why did you not correct Miss Bradley? I suppose you thought you could make yourself look better if her potion turned out badly?"

"No, sir."

Snape waved his wand and all of Jessica's carefully measured ingredients returned to their source. "Using magic to measure your ingredients is highly imprecise, and easily influenced by your environment, your temperament, and state of the ingredient. You will never achieve the same quality from magically weighed ingredients that you get from a well calibrated scale. In addition, the direct application of magic in that manner can damage delicate ingredients and set off volatile or unstable elements. Put your wand away before you get us all killed. Begin again."

"Yes, sir."

Harry double checked his own supplies. Satisfied that he hadn't missed any ingredients, he looked at the instructions. Each step had at least three footnotes with critical details ranging from which type of knife to use to slice the boomslang skin – silver – to how many newt eyes to add at a time – four. After reading through the entire three page recipe and all thirty-eight footnotes, he carefully prepared the ingredients, double and triple checking the wording of each one. Twenty-five minutes into class, he finally began adding ingredients to his cauldron.

"Potter, why are you not farther along? Do you think I gave you an entire hour if the potion only needed thirty minutes?"

"No, sir. Sorry, sir," Harry said without even looking up. He carefully recounted his eyes of newt. There were only fifteen. Not sure if that would compromise the potion, he quickly weighed the three largest ones and replaced them with four smaller ones of equal weight before adding the first group. He stirred the potion exactly three times counter-clock before adding the next four.

"At least you're paying some attention to the instructions, unlike some of your classmates. Mr. Malfoy! How many eyes of newt did you just add?"

"I added 25 grams of newt eyes, sir," Malfoy responded coldly.

"I asked you how many, not what they weighed. The instructions clearly state that the newt eyes must be added four at a time." His cauldron was already emitting a thick purple smoke, and Snape banished the entire contents with a wave of his hand. "You are done for the day. You may leave now, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Longbottom and Miss Parkinson, you may also leave before you kill someone." He banished the contents of their cauldrons as well, which were boiling over and emitting noxious fumes, respectively.

Harry was determined to get this potion right, and had now added all of his newt eyes. He did his best to block out the noise around him and continued going step by step through the instructions. Twenty minutes later he glanced up to see that three quarters of the class was gone, including all but two Slytherins. Snape caught his eye and scowled at him, but didn't say anything. Turning back to his book, he saw that he was at a critical step. He added a portion of diced mandrake root, and then picked up a birch rod. He stirred his potion with the birch rod five times clockwise, and then watched with bated breathe. A few seconds later his potion turned from green to light purple, and he exhaled and added a unicorn hair. Harry reduced the flame on his cauldron and stirred continuously, checking the consistency every few strokes. Once he felt it was thick enough, he added his powdered flobber worm and began to clean up his table. His potion would need to simmer for at least five minutes before he would be able to add the final ingredient. A quick look around showed him that only Hermione, Blaise Zabini, and himself were left. The other two had cauldrons full of thick, dark red potion.

"Time is up. Mr. Zabini and Ms. Granger, your potions look adequate. Ten points each. Leave your cauldrons here. I will have the potions bottled and brought to the hospital wing; you may pick up your cauldrons at the next class. Mr. Potter, you have not finished in the time allotted. However, it seems that your potion has the potential to be finished correctly. If you stay to complete it, and you manage not screw up the last step, I will award you five points."

Harry swallowed and nodded. Hermione gave him a brief smile as she and Blaise rushed out of the room. Snape followed them and shut the door as the students left. "You are beginning to get your temper under control," Snape said neutrally. "You have also showed more patience today than I have seen in the past. Most of the failures today were due to students rushing to add ingredients before the potion had stabilized, or not reading the directions carefully enough. Perhaps I haven't aligned myself with a completely hopeless cause, after all, if you can master that egotistical, self-absorbed wrong-headedness that makes you so much like your father." Harry refused to allow himself to be distracted from finishing the potion. "Or perhaps you finally mastered the first year skill of following instructions. I must say, I'm surprised. I gave up on that endeavor years ago."

Harry didn't take his eyes off of his cauldron, and the instant he saw the steam begin to shimmer he added a small vial of dragon's blood and gave it one last stir in each direction. "Done, sir."

Snape stepped over to the work bench and looked at the potion. He nodded. "Fine. Get out of my classroom." Not needing to be told twice, Harry grabbed his bag and dashed out of the room.


End file.
